


into the darkness

by writerlily



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerlily/pseuds/writerlily
Summary: "Maybe I'm not so good as I seem to you. I've a bad heart; I will have my own way." 
  -- Fyodor Dostoyevsky 
 a richard/kate fic inspired by the tale of hades and persephone.





	

He's an imposing figure dressed in black. His suit is pressed neatly, hair combed over perfectly, and there's a dangerous glint to his eyes as he watches her serve him his coffee. All black, as well. 

Kate can feel his eyes on her back as she walks over to the kitchens and only when she's hidden behind a door does she breathe and relax. Who is this stranger, watching her with dark intent in his eyes? 

She's no one. Not really. Her hair is greasy from her shift and there are stains all over her apron and even if she was clean, she doesn't think a man like him would take a second look at a girl like her. Because that's what they are-- he's a man and she's just a little girl playing waitress while her daddy drinks his life away and her brother floats farther and farther away from her. 

She tries to shake off the feeling of that strange man as her boss orders her attention back to the plates of food waiting to be served. When she comes back out of the kitchens, she chances a look over to the back booth only to find it empty. 

\--

Her mom used to brush her hair every night before they went to bed. She would use a white jeweled brush that was passed down from some great aunt or whatever in the family. Kate's mom would always whisper things in her ear. Little words strung along that spoke of how pretty and beautiful she was and that men would always be knocking on her door. 

But her mother always told her that men were nothing but trouble. 

Each and every one of them only took what they wanted from girls and left them in the dust afterwards.

Her mother would tell her that Kate was pure and sweet and special and that it was important for her to grow her own flowers than wait on some man to do it for her.

Kate always shook her head at that. How could a man want to chase after someone like her? All she did was go to church every Sunday and never miss school and take naps in the garden in their backyard. She was nothing special. 

She was _just_ Kate.

\--

He comes in every day after that. He always sits at the back booth, always orders a cup of coffee, always watches her. 

He's not even attempting to be subtle, or coy about it, which is both a little bit scary and a little bit exciting. No one has ever looked at her like that. Especially not the boys from her small town who liked to secretly watch porn together in their parents basements and drink cheap beer. 

She doesn't build up the courage to actually talk to him and he doesn't say anything to her besides asking for his coffee and she's kind of content to let it be like that. It's not like she has anything to offer him. She's making slightly less than minimum wage and always smells like pancakes and french fries and comes from a broken little family. 

But it's nice... she supposes. Having someone appear to be somewhat interested in her, even if her mother's words ring through her head every now and then when she makes eye contact with him. 

\--

She walks home one night after work. She doesn't have a car and the one that they had got totaled when Scott tried driving it to school one morning when their father couldn't bother to wake up to do it. 

It's dark out and the air is cool and it feels refreshing as it breezes past her face. Working inside of a diner all day leaves her feeling cooped up and stuffy, so she walks slowly. She walks along the side of the street and every so often a car will pass by in each direction. There's no real concert sidewalk-- just a dirt path that she walks and kicks a rock along with her. 

Up ahead, she spots something and tilts her head at the little flower when she finally ascends upon it. She's never really seen a flower like this, especially not where they live where it's mostly dirt and shades of brown. Behind her she can distinctly hear a car coming, but she pays it no mind as she stares at the plant. The flower is perfect, with a long bright green stem and dark red petals. The color almost makes them look like blood... Kate shakes away that thought and crouches down to run her fingers along the soft petals. 

She wants to pluck it from the soft, warm earth beneath them, but it would be a crime to do so wouldn't it? 

The car she heard coming down earlier still hasn't passed by her as it should've and Kate suddenly tenses. She stands slowly as she hears gravel crunching behind her, but she doesn't turn around. There's that feeling again... Of eyes staring right at her... 

She knows who it is before he speaks. 

"Beautiful flower, isn't it?" 

She thinks she hears humor in his voice and she swallows nervously. When she turns around, the man from the diner is standing straight across from her. His car is behind him and it's a menacing looking thing. All black and vintage looking and she wonders how she missed him parking it behind her. 

How could she have missed something like that? 

The man stands impossibly still and Kate would think it eerie if she wasn't so distracted by his freaking eyes. It's like he's staring right into her... And straight through her... And it sends a shiver down her body.

He's waiting for her to respond and she clears her throat. "It is," she says. His head tilts curiously at the sound of her voice and Kate imperceptibly takes a step back. He notices anyway and the corners of his lips slightly turn up. 

"You work at the diner," it's not a question and his words are left hanging in the still air. 

"I do," she says. 

"Do you only know two words?"

"It depends."

He actually smiles this time. It reaches his eyes and almost makes him look like a young man. And she hates herself for thinking this, but he looks handsome in the darkness and the moonlight. 

"You're funny Kate," he says. His smile has melted into something more akin to a smirk. 

She narrows her eyes. "How do you know my name?"

"Your tag on your uniform," he says as he taps his chest. 

Oh. Right. 

Kate musters up some of that Fuller courage and stands straighter, even though she feels small and a little worried and god-- she should've asked a coworker for a ride home tonight. But then she thinks of the man's persistent eyes and wonders if this would have happened regardless. 

"Who are you?" She asks him. He doesn't say anything and instead chooses to play with a lighter in his large hand. "You know my name. It's only fair that I know yours."

"So you're bargaining. Didn't think you'd be the type," he says softly, more to himself than anything. 

"You don't know anything about me," she scoffs at him. 

"I know more than you think," he says. There's this way to his words... And his demeanor and the way he speaks... It makes him sound like he's this all knowing being and it makes him even more mysterious and alluring. 

Which is definitely not what she should be thinking. 

Because this is a stranger for _gods sake_ , Kate get it together, she thinks with a sneer. A stranger who had apparently followed her in his black chariot and means to do only God knows what with her. 

She looks down at her dirty sneakers that used to be pristine and white and are now turning beige from wearing them to work all the time. She clasps her hands together, not unlike how she does when she prays at night. 

"What do you want from me?" She asks softly, quietly, and suddenly he's standing in front of her. Tilting her chin up with a slender finger. She stops breathing altogether and her heart is alternating between beating too fast and not beating at all in her fear.

How did he move so fast? 

It's unnatural... 

_Inhuman..._

"Oh little Kate," his voice is low and breath warm against her face. They're standing so close-- enough so that she can see every line and wrinkle in his perfect little face. She briefly wonders what he sees as he looks at her, because his face is lit with curiosity and wonder and she hasn't even washed her face since she left the house this morning. "I want to give you the world."

He smiles and it's a bloodcurdling kind of smile. The kind of smile that you want to run _from_ instead of run _to_. She briefly thinks of her mother's words all those years ago. 

"Men are nothing but trouble Kate." 

Nothing but trouble, indeed. 

The man's smile and a glowing eye against his palm are the last things she sees before her world goes dark.


End file.
